


You Are My Sunshine

by Small_Hobbit



Series: The Ocelot Collection [27]
Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-12-05 00:07:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11566227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Small_Hobbit/pseuds/Small_Hobbit
Summary: Nothing says 'Loud' more than the Ferret in love.





	You Are My Sunshine

**Author's Note:**

> Written for DW's Fan Flashworks "Loud" prompt and LJ's FFFC 'Summery Song Shuffle'

“ _You are my sunshine, my only sunshine_ ,” the Ferret bellowed.  
  
“What?” the Sloth exclaimed.  
  
“ _You make me happy when skies are blue_.”  
  
“It seems he doesn’t know the words,” the Ocelot said.  
  
“ _Because my love for you is true_.”  
  
“Or the tune,” Aemilia Vole added.  
  
“That’s always doubtful at the best of times,” Inky Quill replied.  
  
“He’s in Love!” Mouselet explained.  
  
The Ferret began the second verse.  “ _You make me happy when skies are green_.”  
  
“Really?” the Sloth said.  His comment could have referred to either the verse or Mouselet’s explanation.  
  
“ _Because my love just has to be seen_.”  
  
“Yes, as of yesterday,” Mouselet answered.  
  
There was another verse.  “ _You make me happy when skies are red_.”  
  
“Who with this time?” Inky asked.  
  
“ _There are lots of ways my love can be said_.”  
  
“Someone in the pet shop apparently.  Possibly a guinea pig.”  
  
“ _You make me happy when skies are pink_.”  
  
“Oh, please tell me he’s not going to mention every colour,” the Ocelot exclaimed.  
  
“ _Because I love you more than you can think_.”  
  
“He’ll have to stop at orange,” Inky said.  
  
“ _You make me happy when skies are white_.”  
  
“Don’t think the absence of rhyme will hold him back,” the Sloth muttered.  
  
“ _As I love you with all my might_.”  
  
“But it’s all doomed you know,” Aemilia said.  
  
They waited to see if there was yet another verse, but when nothing was forthcoming, Inky asked “Why?”  
  
“Sooner or later she’ll be sold,” Mouselet explained.  
  
“ _Parting is such sweet sorrow_ ,” the Ferret intoned,  
“ _My chosen one, dashed from my very lips._  
 _Her beauties never more to be beheld,_  
 _My tears will fall from my eyes in copious drips_.”  
  
“You know, I’m not sure I didn’t prefer the singing, to his dreadful verse,” the Ocelot said.  
  
“Maybe Inky could write something suitable for him,” the Sloth suggested.  
  
“My love poetry is supposed to be spoken quietly and meaningfully,” Inky replied.  “Not yelled at the top of one’s lungs.”  
  
“ _A tragedy like that of Romeo and Juliet_  
 _Needs mournful songs and tears so very bitter_  
 _The sentiment which comes from out my heart_  
 _No words which spoken could be any fitter_.”  
  
“Yes,” Aemilia agreed, “this is rather more the volume for rallying the troops, than mourning a lost love.”  
  
“Please don’t give him any ideas,” the Ocelot said.  
  
But it was too late.  
“ _Once more unto the pet shop, dear friends,_  
 _Or abandon all that makes me mustelid_  
 _Um, de-dum-de-dum-de-dum_  
 _But now the blast of hope still stands aloft_  
 _I’ll imitate the action of a Ferret_ ”  
  
“What is he talking about?” the Sloth asked.  
  
“I’ve no idea,” Aemelia said.  
  
“I don’t think he has either,” Mouselet answered.  
  
“ _Cry God for Ferret, England and St Anthony!_ ”  
  
“St Anthony?” Inky asked.  
  
“Patron saint of animals,” the Sloth explained.  
  
“I thought that was St Francis,” Aemilia said.  
  
“They share the job between them,” the Ocelot said.  
  
“Like on a rota,” Mouselet said.  “One day on and one day off?”  
  
“Something like that.”  
  
They watched as the Ferret charged off in the direction of the pet shop and then they settled down to enjoy the peace and quiet.


End file.
